


Make You Blush

by everythingisintoxicating



Category: X Factor (US) RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:30:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingisintoxicating/pseuds/everythingisintoxicating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young adults go out to dinner, courtesy of Demi. Jennel gets more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make You Blush

**It's been done a million times, I know. I always say that I won't write something that somebody else has written, I know. I guess I'm kind of a liar. But whatever, here's my take on it.**

"What are you wearing?" Cece called to me from underneath the bed, where she was dragging out her second suitcase.

"I'm not really sure yet," I answered. "Is it supposed to be dressy?"

"I don't know...." She bit her lip, thinking. "What was the place called again?"

"The Palm, I think?" I offer.

She chuckled as she pulled her phone out, opening a webpage. "The Palm. So typical California."

I smiled, opening my suitcase and considering my options. Formal? Semi-formal?

"Oh shit." Cece broke the silence. "This place is kind of a big deal."

I sighed, dragging a second suitcase out from beneath my own bed. Formal, I suppose, was the way to go for tonight. 

By the time Cece and I had both chosen what to wear, we only had thirty minutes until a car came to pick up all of Team Demi.  
Paige had been out all day, visiting with her daughter, and I wasn't even completely sure if she was coming to dinner with us.  
Willie was two rooms down, and, in all seriousness, had probably been getting ready for as long as Cece and I were.

"Curl the hair and leave off the makeup, or leave the hair straight and cake my face?" Cece turned her back to her mirror and asked me, holding a curling iron in one hand and a small makeup bag in the other. I had just begun to open my mouth with an answer when she turned back. "Straight hair. Focus on the makeup. Good idea."

I chuckled, she was so…  _Cece._  
I made my way into the unnecessarily large bathroom tacked onto our room, and looked at myself in the mirror. Eh. If Cece wasn't curling her hair, I supposed I could do mine. My hair is naturally wavy, and with the careful placement of some huge curling-iron curls, I managed to make my hair look bouncy, but I was careful not to overdo it.  
Six minutes until we needed to be downstairs.  
I fished around in my makeup bag for a black eyeliner, lining just the outsides of my upper and lower lids, finishing with a coat of mascara. It was probably the least makeup I'd worn in months.

"Ready?" I called to Cece as I stepped back into our room and grabbed the door handle leading to the hallway.

"Duh." She jokingly snapped at me, eyes rolling dramatically as she sashayed through the door I held open.

"Wow, you're welcome Your Highness. Love you too." I drawled back with just as much playful sarcasm.

Willie was already downstairs when Cece and I made it to the door.

The car arrived a minute early, a huge, overly tinted, expensive looking Mercedes. Totally discreet.

I looked from Willie to Cece, letting out a breath.

"Team Demi." Willie declared, holding a hand out to each of us.

"Team Demi." We echoed it as though it was a toast, each taking ahold of one of Willie's hands as he led us to the car.

When we arrived at The Palm, the driver had ushered us out and aimed us towards the door without a word. We entered, feeling somewhat out of place, and just as we were about to be asked about reservations, Demi swooped in.

She looked gorgeous, beaming at us and complementing us like we were her own kids, her pride and joy.

"We're in a booth on the far side," Demi said over her shoulder as she began walking away. We almost missed our cue to follow her.  
Cece, Willie and I all ended up pressing into one side of a booth, across from Demi, who sat alone.

She patted the empty space next to her, explaining. "Paige should be meeting us here momentarily."

There was idle chatter until a waiter came and lay out our menus, and I let out a sigh when I saw the prices. Fuck LA, everything here is so damn  _expensive._

Demi must have heard me, which is why I mentally slapped myself when she announced to us all that she would be buying our dinner tonight. We, of course, tried to protest, but she was insistent and she was Demi Lovato, and I just can't argue with that.

The first time I felt Demi's foot was when we were ordering our drinks.  
I was in the middle of politely asking for an iced tea when something brushed the inside of my calf. I looked up at Demi, the only person across from me.

She held my gaze for a beat longer than was normal, and smiled. "Sorry, didn't mean to kick you." I brushed it off with a "no big deal", actually believing that it was no big deal.

Minutes later, I felt her shoe on my leg again. Resting the outside of her foot against my calf, I glanced up at her. Did she realize this was my leg, not part of the table?

"Shit, sorry!" She sounded embarrassed, but her foot lingered against my leg for a few seconds after her apology ended. When she pulled it away, it was slow and casual, and I could tell she was in no rush to stop touching me.

The waitress returned a third time, asking us again if we were ready to order. We sent her away again, apologizing, explaining that we were waiting for one more party member.  
As the waitress left, my eyes involuntarily found Demi's. Twice before, just as the waitress left, Demi had found my legs with her feet. I looked to her expectantly, and that was when she realized that I had caught on; she wasn't kicking me accidentally and I knew it.

And suddenly Demi's ankles closed around one of my own. I tried to look inconspicuously towards her, but she was looking down at her menu, and Willie and Cece were completely unaware of the little one-sided game of footsie going on.

Demi's ankles were loosely crossed behind one of my own, and just as I contemplated finding her leg with my free foot, she dragged her heel up the back of my leg.  
I felt the soft leather of her sky-high heels against my skin as she practically caressed my leg, from calf almost to the curve of my knee, then back down. I saw Demi's eyes find their way to me, looking for some sort of reaction, and I tried my hardest to push back down the blush I could feel rising.  
When Demi's foot pushed my legs apart, I drew the line. I crossed my legs, accidentally shaking the table with the abruptness of it.

"Oh my God I've been kicking you  _all night._ I am so sorry!" Damn, the girl was a good actress.

I was thoroughly confused, but the pleasant little shivers that the feel of Demi touching my skin elicited… Those weren't confusing, and I wasn't complaining.

But…what the fuck was going on? I needed a moment to just process what might be happening, so I stood up, momentarily excusing myself to the restroom.  
Demi slid out of her seat as well, joining me in the ladies room. She touched up her makeup. I pretended to fix my hair.  
Neither of us spoke.  
I didn't know what to ask.  
Then, she broke the silence first.

"You're harder than you look."

"Excuse me…?" I asked back, not sure if I should be offended or complemented.

"You're hard to embarrass. I was sitting there thinking, I'm not sure I've ever seen you blush. So I was trying to get you under the table, but I've still yet to succeed."

"Oh, that's why you were molesting my leg?" I laughed. "Sorry though, I don't blush. I don't embarrass easily."

She winked at me. "You loved it. And I'll get you before tonight is over."

"Of course I loved it." I stated matter-of-factly, swinging my hips as I exited. "Do your worst." Fine. If this is all a game, then I'll beat her at it.

When I got back to the booth, Paige had arrived, and was sitting in my seat. I wasn't sure how to politely ask her to move.  
At that moment, Demi slipped behind me into her side of the booth, dragging my drink from the other side of the table, to slide it onto a coaster at the place setting next to her own.

"Now you can sit next to me," Demi offered, smiling mischievously.

Ah, shit.

Ten minutes into the entree, I feel Demi's hand rest on my knee as she tells a particularly hilarious joke. It's gone a few minutes later, and I pretend the whole ordeal never happened. No blushing, no questions, no nothing.

Demi, apparently, takes her challenges seriously. Less than five minutes later, mid-sip of my iced tea, Demi's hand finds my upper thigh. I choke almost unnoticeably on my drink for a nanosecond before I pull it back together.  
I cross my ankles, trying to be casual as Demi's hand squeezes my thigh, her thumb drawing little circles on the outside of my leg, just below where my skirt ends.  
If anything, I thank God that I wore a skirt tonight. Demi had been a fan of practical jokes since I first met her, she was just messing with me. She'd never…. Go  _up_ my skirt.

That turned out to be the first of three times I was wrong that evening.

She never gave me any recovery time, to process how I was feeling. I didn't have time to think about why I had goosebumps immediately every time her skin came in contact with mine. I didn't have time to think about why I suddenly just wanted to kiss her, hard, when we were just friends playing a risqué little game. I didn't have time to think about how I would react if her hand crept under my skirt to rest at almost the very top of my thigh.

The last one, did catch me off guard. We were sitting impossibly close to each other, both pretending to be enthralled with one of Willie's stories. Her hand had been sitting on the middle of my thigh for a few moments, just massaging and squeezing and generally making me come apart at the seams. I was already in that blissful void between consciousness and numbness when her fingernails dipped beneath my skirt and her hand pushed the entire thing up to an indecent length.

Her fingers were now almost at the crease where leg connected hip, and my breath hitched as I reached for my fork, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy above the table. She scratched her nails lightly along the top of my thigh, hand hidden beneath the fabric of my skirt, and I was a goner.  
I felt myself lose focus and my whole body suddenly felt like it was pulsing, the blood rushing from my head to some places a bit farther south- all because of Demi's teasing little game.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, trying to figure out why Demi was having this effect on me. I wasn't usually into girls, but my body was practically screaming that I was. If I had been more lucid, I probably could have come to the conclusion that it was just Demi I was attracted to, but at that moment her hand slipped forward to the  _inside_ inside of my thigh, a line I never expected her to cross.

That was twice now, I'd been wrong about tonight.

And her hand was so fucking close to where I wanted it to be, but she was in control here and I knew that nothing would happen unless it was on her own terms.  
I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding when her hand traveled down towards my knee, but it was only seconds before she brought it back up, stroking the inside of my thigh.  
And, for just a second, so quick that Demi herself might have missed it, one of her knuckles lightly brushed the apex of my thighs, just barely, accidentally teasing me through my panties, and I finally blushed. Hard.  
I flexed my thighs involuntarily under Demi's hand, and her eyes flicked towards me.  
I saw her smirk evilly when she took in my face, which had lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Jennel… Are you okay?" Cece suddenly asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Totally okay." I answered too quickly.

"You do look kinda flushed." Willie added.

"I'm just, um, it was really spicy." I lied, motioning towards the plate in front of me.

Cece's eyebrows knotted in confusion. "Your  _pasta_ was too spicy?"

I nodded, face still red, Demi's hand still beneath my skirt. Cece gave me a questioning look. I shook my head and smiled, hoping she got the message not to worry about it.

Demi waited until the conversation was focused between Cece and Paige, Willie caught in the middle, before she leaned over toward me.

"I win." She whispered into my ear.

I tried to hide the shiver that ran through me. She began pulling her hand away, dragging her nails down my thigh, when I closed my hand around her wrist.  
I turned back towards her inconspicuously.

"My turn."

Her eyes widened impossibly as I pulled her hand back into my lap, pushing it towards exactly where I'd been needing it.  
She followed along, and when her hand first made contact with my underwear, I almost slumped forward to rest my head on the table. Instead, I let my eyes fall closed for a bit longer than a standard blink as I struggled to keep a straight face.

Demi and I had been dancing around the edge, and with that move, I had just pushed us both off.  
What were we now? We were friends, but whatever was going down in this restaurant  _seriously_ changed that. I think? Demi had always seemed a bit reckless, and I wouldn't put it past her to laugh about this whole incident later, promising that it was just all in good fun. I had no idea what came next.

Demi, apparently, was having similar problems as far as thinking, because she couldn't get out more than a few intelligible syllables when Paige asked her a question regarding the show.

I watched Demi's face heat up in a different way than mine did. I was embarrassed, I was excited, I was nervous. Demi's face was projecting her arousal, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before one of our expressions gave us away.

I flexed my thighs again, now toying with Demi because I knew she could feel it. Then I found Demi's hand with my own. I tangled our fingers together and gently pulled her hand out of my lap, thinking that this whole situation was about to go a bit too far.

Demi made a sad little whimpering noise at the loss of contact.

"It was about to get out of hand." I muttered out of the side of my mouth.

"You don't think it already was?" She laughed lightly back.

Ah, she had a point there.

And with that, I assumed Demi and I would probably never speak of it again. We wouldn't have to talk about, we wouldn't allude to it… Because, like Demi said, it had gone too far.

Later that night, when Paige went back to see her daughter, and Cece and Willie went shopping, I ended up in the car with just Demi on the ride back to the mansion.

But we wouldn't talk about it, right? We wouldn't… Continue it.

We were in the back seat, and when Demi unclicked my seatbelt and pulled me roughly towards her, I realized I was about to be wrong for the third time tonight.


End file.
